


Paint Me ~ Loki & Tom

by Batsutousai



Series: Tumblr Prompts [15]
Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/pseuds/Batsutousai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki discovers that art can be used to show your love for someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint Me ~ Loki & Tom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alate/gifts).



> **Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Marvel. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The characters of Thomas "Tom" Hiddleston is based on a real person, and no offence is intended; this is only for the amusement of myself and other like-minded (read: mentally ill) fans.
> 
> **A/N:** From [a list of prompts on tumblr](http://batshieroglyphics.tumblr.com/post/42976150422) as a response to a prompt given to me by [hiddlebang](http://hiddlebang.tumblr.com/). The prompt was **Paint Me – Loki and Tom**
> 
> Any art mentioned in this fic was made up on the spot and is not based on any art that I have seen or know to have been sent to Tom.

"Thomas, I demand you make me art!" Loki shouted from the table. He was surrounded by the fanmail that Mikey Symons had left there when he'd arrived less than twenty minutes before. Thomas had frowned a bit when he noticed Loki heading for the pile while he and Symons were sat on the couch with tea, but Loki was never certain if that particular furrow was because his agent was uncomfortable in Loki's presence after that one joke the god had played, or if he hadn't wanted Loki going through his letters. But Thomas hadn't called after to stop him, so Loki assumed this occasion was one of the former. 

Shifting came from the area of the couch, then Loki sensed the change in temperature that signalled the approach of one of the humans. "You want _what_ now?" Thomas asked, one hand soothing through Loki's long hair, easing through a tangle with the ease of long familiarity. 

Loki held up the rather fetching picture of his lover that he'd found in one of the envelops. The attached letter claimed it to have been drawn by the sender, and the feel of the ink worked into the paper followed with that. "Art. Is it not a way to show your adoration for someone?" 

Thomas let out a breath of a laugh and leaned forward, one hand reaching for the picture while the other dangled the cracked blue mug Thomas favoured directly in front of Loki's mouth, a silent offer for the god to take a drink, which he did. "It's one of many ways, sure. But it's not really one of my many–"

"Many, _many_ ," Symons called from closer than the couch. 

"–skills," Thomas finished with a hint of a laugh. He brushed his fingers over the curled lines of art-Thomas' hair. "I'm eternally impressed at people's skills with this media." 

"It is not unpleasant to look at," Loki allowed. 

Thomas chuckled and planted a kiss against his hairline. "High praise, from you." Then he pulled back, fingers gently working out another tangle. "I was going to make a salad." 

"I would not refuse a bowl," Loki allowed, taking the open question as it was meant. 

"Would you refuse some tea?" Thomas wondered, but it was rhetorical, given how much of the human's mug had been drained by the god in the short time that it was held in his reach. 

Loki didn't bother with a reply, too busy tilting the picture he'd found to consider it at a different angle. 

"There's a fair bit of art in there," Symons offered in a falsely casual manner as Thomas moved into the kitchen. "A couple of Tom as you." 

_That_ caught Loki's attention. He set the picture down with a great deal of care and looked over the rest of the impressive pile. "Where?" 

Symons was still for a long moment before he, cautiously, approached and sifted through the letters until he found one he seemed to like. He handed it to Loki, then started looking through the pile again while the god reopened the envelope. 

This letter held a less impressive piece of art, but it was unmistakably him, standing tall above a huddle of bodies draped in the familiar colours and shapes of the Avengers, as they'd appeared in the mortal film. "I like this one," he decided. 

"You would," Symons muttered, handing over another envelope. 

"Don't let him open _all_ of them," Thomas called teasingly. "I'll never get to see any of these pictures." 

Loki debated vanishing the art he'd found so far – the one he'd just pulled out was more cute than impressive, which Thomas would doubtless love – just because he could, but then that familiar hand was resting on his shoulder and a mug of, not tea but _hot chocolate_ , was placed before him on the table. Loki tilted his head enough to rest against the mortal's forearm in a silent sign of appreciation as he reached out for the mug. 

"This one is cute," Thomas commented as he took the picture from Loki's unresisting grasp. "I might have to frame it and–"

"Ruin my good mood at your peril, mortal," Loki hissed into his hot chocolate. 

Thomas laughed and leaned down to kiss Loki's cheek, leaving a warm brand of security against his skin. "Did you want tomatoes on your salad?" 

Loki considered that for a moment, then shook his head; it was even odds whether he wanted that particular food each day. And Thomas, being the tolerant idiot he was, had quickly adapted to simply asking before serving anything tomato-based. Loki loved and hated him in about equal measures. 

Thomas got the salads while Loki moved the opened letters and pictures out of the way, then they all settled in for an unusually – considering how Symons and Loki usually reacted to each other – civil lunch. 

\--

Tom got home from another long day of filming and looked hopefully towards the bedroom and a long rest. But he could see Loki hunched over the dining room table, surrounded by a halo of magical green light, a sign that Loki had been sitting there for hours, his magic compensating for the dying light without him recognising the need. It wasn't an uncommon sight, really, though the sight of Tom and his sisters' old art set spread out between crumpled balls of paper was. 

Loki didn't react when Tom turned on the overhead light, though the green glow of magical light died. "What are you working on?" Tom asked, brushing his hands along the god's shoulders, thumbs catching in his ponytail. 

Loki huddled around his current piece of paper for a moment before peering over his shoulder. "Nothing," he muttered. 

Tom raised an eyebrow at that. "Okay. Where'd you get the art supplies from? Mum?" 

"She did not seem bothered when I requested them," Loki said, a touch defensively. 

Tom brushed his thumb against the tight jaw, smiling softly. "I didn't think she would be. Have you eaten?" 

Loki hunched a bit and glanced past Tom, towards the darkened kitchen. "No." 

"Did you want me to make you something?" 

Loki's sharp eyes flickered over Tom's face, likely cataloguing a dozen signs of the bone-deep exhaustion Tom felt. "I'm not hungry," he god decided, turning away. "Go to bed." 

"You're not going to come tuck me in?" Tom complained good-naturedly. 

Loki stiffened. 

Tom leaned down and immediately pressed a kiss against the god's ear. "I'm teasing, Lo'. Finish your secret project. And eat something soon, okay?" 

"...fine..." 

Tom shook his head and moved into the bedroom. There, he spent the barest energy possible to prepare for bed, then slipped under the cold covers. 

What seemed like no more than a second later, he was woken by a poking to his shoulder and an incessant hiss of, "Thomas, _Thomas_ , Thomas, wake up. You sleep _forever_. Wake up. _Thomas_."

"Mm, up." Tom reached out and caught the hand that had been poking him, bringing it to his lips for a kiss and blinking up into the unnatural glow emanating from green eyes. "What's going on, Lo'?" 

Loki shifted and pulled his caught hand from Tom's. "I wanted...I wanted to show you this." A dim green flame appeared in that palm, and Tom blinked a few times at the light before he noticed the paper clutched tight in the god's other hand. 

Tom struggled up into a sitting position and held out a hand for the paper. "Is this what you've been working on all day?" It was a fair guess as to the time the god had spent on the project, considering how many crumpled balls of paper had littered the dining room table. 

Loki visibly paused for a moment before holding the paper out for Tom, admitting. "Yes." 

Tom looked down at the offering and found...himself. An impressively accurate picture of himself, given that it was done using coloured pencils and cheap oil pastels. "Loki," he breathed, entirely honestly, "this is _amazing_."

The flame sputtered for a moment before Loki shuffled closer, a shadow of uncertain pride hidden in the dancing light. "Is it?" he asked, voice careful in that way that Tom had come to understand meant he needed reassurance. 

Tom reached out and cupped the god's cheek, waiting until their eyes met before firmly replying, "It's absolutely wonderful. A talent I didn't know you had." 

Loki relaxed slightly and the flame calmed. "I didn't know, either," he murmured, always more honest in the night. 

Tom smiled and traced the god's lips with his thumb. "You're going to make me more, right?" 

Loki's eyes skittered to the side. "Perhaps." 

"We can get you a better art set. Something more professional." 

Ah, and there was that glint of self-importance Tom had been waiting for. "Something more befitting my skills?" the god said, a hint of superiority to his voice. 

Tom's lips curled with a smile and he leaned in to kiss the god, stopping short just long enough to tease, "I don't know we'll find something quite so impressive on Earth, but we can certainly _try_."

Loki's responding laugh tingled against Tom's lips and filled him with the sort of energy he usually only got after eight hours sleep. So Tom supposed he could forgive the god for immediately pulling away to jump off the bed and demand, "We'll go now!" 

"No one's open, now," Tom reminded him. 

Loki's expression fell and Tom glanced towards the clock next to him before casually saying, "We'll head out in two hours. But I'm so ti–" He faked a yawn, "–red. I'm not sure I can stay awake that lo–"

Loki smashed their lips together, skilled fingers dancing across Tom's naked chest. "I'll keep you awake, my Thomas," he promised on a purr. 

Thomas shuddered with pleasure; yes, he rather thought Loki would.


End file.
